Violent Ends
by CelticGames4
Summary: A short series of stories after the end of Romeo and Juliet. Some of the characters get what they deserve- just sayin'.
1. Chapter 1

_**Violent Ends**_

Juliet knocks on his door.

His heavenly cabin; they all got one.

When he opens it, she runs into his arms.

"Juliet! Why do you despair!"

"Oh, fair Count! It's Romeo!"

"Oh? I thought, my lady, that you were happy together."

"We were."

"You were?"

"Now I hang my head in shame."

"In shame?"

He puts a finger under her chin, and guides up her head up.

He looks into her eyes.

"Romeo hath only lusted for me. He's gone. He hath destroyed my pride, and shamed my name."

"Therefore you come back to me, and you beg on your knees for what?"

"Fair Count, it do be true that you hath loved me? All this time?"

"It is true, my lady. It was very true."

"It was?"

"That was a thing of the past, dear lady. You are a married woman now. There is no going back."

"Paris, I was wrong, the love went too fast, I-"

He sushes her, with one finger over her mouth.

"My lady, weren't you warned?"

"Paris, you don't understand-"

"You had your chance, Lady Montague-"

"Don't say that name!"

"You chose this life! Now, out of my sight, Lady Montague, I no longer wish to be in your presence."

"But, fair Count, I love you-"

"Hush! No more of this! Now, leave me here, Lady Montague."

"But-"

"I cannot say any words except for-"

"Please!"

He shakes his head, showing her out the door. "These violent delights have violent ends."


	2. Chapter 2

They've left me all alone here.

Romeo and Mercutio.

Even Tybalt, Prince of Cats.

Maybe, had I gotten to know him, I may have liked him.

It is so different now.

No sword fighting. No anger or insults.

Oh, Romeo.

Oh, Mercutio.

My two best friends.

Yes, everyone is much happier now.

The Capulets and the Montagues, they fight no more.

Lord Montague, the poor man, I am a son to him now.

Now that his real son, my coz, Romeo, is gone.

All I can do is hang my head in shame.

All these times that have passed.

These times when I could've, maybe, prevented the deaths of my beloved.

Tis all my fault that Romeo attended the party.

Rosaline never would've done this.

Rosaline wouldn't have killed Romeo.

The Capulets; we're supposed to love them.

I am still filled with rage. Is it not Juliet's fault that Romeo passed away?

I am nice to them.

When they come over for tea, or for a gathering of festivity, I do not say a word, unless it is absolutely necessary.

Sometimes, when Lady Capulet puts her hand on my shoulder in empathy, I freeze.

All I can do is keep my head hung down in shame.

This is the tenth night in a row I've snuck out in the night.

Made my way to the cemetery, without a single soul knowing.

I hold the bottle in my fingers, the very one that Romeo drank from.

The tiny glass nozzle is dusty and rough.

I place it by the head of my coz.

Juliet lies beside him.

Mercutio and Tybalt are side by side.

Together, the two look like good friends.

Mercutio and Tybalt, both are always ready for a fight.

Both are hot-headed and just arrogant enough.

I don't want to say I hated Tybalt.

But, it's hard to think nicely of the man that killed your best friend.

I look to where Juliet was laid to rest.

I can't bear to look at the wretch.

I turn, to where Lady Montague is, my aunt.

Right next to Mercutio.

He was the oldest, and, I was the youngest, believe it or not.

He taught me a lot.

A lot of the time, he taught me what _not _to do.

All the laughs we had together.

The wise-cracks he used to make.

Mercutio was a character. A character that I happened to be very close to.

Romeo was always so gentle. He and I, we just sat and listened to Mercutio.

Neither of us ever wanted to be in a battle.

Romeo feared death, when he and I were younger.

I still fear death.

Tears form in my eyes.

The curly, dark hair falls into my brown eyes.

I will never be able to stand up for myself.

I will never be able to do anything ever again.

I hear the Montagues calling, "Benvolio, Benvolio!"

A mix of voices.

The Capulets are searching, as well.

I don't know what to do.

My hand is shaking, so badly I can barely hold on to the dagger.

The tears streak my cheeks, as I hold it under my arm.

As I plunge it in with all the strength I can muster, I hear good Friar Laurence, "Benvolio!"

He picks me up, "Fetch a surgeon!"

I hear the terrified screams of everyone that I love.

The crying of Lady Capulet, "Oh, Benvolio!"

I hear the cries of all of my dear Verona before rolling over on my side, and closing my eyes.


End file.
